To have seen you and your unforgotten face,  
  Brave as a blast of trumpets for the fray,  
  Pure as white lilies in a watery space,  
  It were something, though you went from me today.  
  To have known the things that from the weak are furled,  
  Perilous ancient passions, strange and high;  
  It is something to be wiser than the world,  
  It is something to be older than the sky.
Poems (1917) - The Great Minimum











